


Why Does It Always Rain On Me?

by Meleth_nin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Bruve Wayne (mentioned), Garth (mentioned) - Freeform, Gen, Jason Todd (mentioned) - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21649363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meleth_nin/pseuds/Meleth_nin
Summary: Tim and Dick have it out. Bruce is back, but Dick is still Batman. Tim decides to confront Dick about Robin and Damian. Dick has had it up to here with Tim and lets rip.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd (referenced), Dick Grayson & Tim Drake, Garth (DCU)/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Comments: 30
Kudos: 231





	Why Does It Always Rain On Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Tim thinks he knows everything, but he tends to not see himself. And Dick is always watching - his siblings joke around about his "flighty cuddly" tendencies - but Dick knows way more about his siblings than they guess.
> 
> Edit: I wrote this fic in a state of deep depression - after reading literally hundreds of fics for years that have Tim belittling Dick for every tragedy in his life, I wanted to look into it from Dick's viewpoint. Robin is DICK's mantle. Anyone who says otherwise is being a Bruce. Don't be a Bruce, guys :D It makes me so happy to see Dick's naysayers out in force in the comments - That means my little fic has hurt people with the truth of its words. *Captain Raymond Holt ~Vindication~ gif*

It is far too early in the day to make coffee; Dick should be catching up on sleep, but he is too deeply wired. Two-Face tends to do that to him. It had been 5 days of chasing after clues and knocking heads and growling at two-penny thugs before he had all the pieces to present to the police. Damian had advocated making strategic cuts on their bodies to get them to squeal faster; but Dick doesn’t see how that makes him any different from the mafia or the villains or even the damn police. He can make them talk; the Cowl just gets in between sometimes. 

He had learnt valuable lessons when he wore the Cowl and had run across Gotham with Tim as his Robin. Dick had found the Bat-growl when paired with the Nightwing smile and an occasional smattering of Robin humour seemed to spook them faster. Damian is a fine kid, and Dick is sure with Bruce there to guide him, Damian can be good. Dick can already see the effects. Even though Alfred seems to think Dick is missing something – he has taken to giving him sharp looks whenever Dick talks about how Bruce being back means Damian gets to have a good mentor and father. Dick is sure one of these days, he is due an Alfred lecture and while he would like to anticipate it, for the life of him he can’t figure out why. 

So yeah, Bruce is back, finally, and while Dick is still wearing the Cowl and is still Gotham’s protector, the very knowledge of Bruce breathing and living in this world washes a sense of peace over him. Right now, Bruce is away in Germany on a Wayne Enterprises stakeholders meet; he took Cass with him, said he misses her far too much with his travels around the world with Batman Inc and Cass dividing her time between Gotham and Hong Kong. 

Damian was none too pleased but had not vocalized his displeasure, to Dick’s great surprise; when Dick had laughed and commented next day at breakfast “huh! Alfred, did you see? I was expecting Damian to call Cass to a duel or something. Just Bruce being back has changed him so much”, he had received no reaction, and when he lifted his head at Alfred’s direction, he had looked up…to Alfred’s glare. It gave Dick pause. He remembered Alfred shooting that glare at Bruce years ago when Dick had first come to the manor. Having that glare directed at him scared Dick. Apparently, he had disappointed Alfred. Alfred had come to mean far too much in the past year when Bruce had been “lost”. Running WE, mentoring Damian, protecting Gotham, being on the Justice League, helping out the Titans, Dick is sure that without Alfred being his rock, he would have found himself continue to flounder. Even as he is unsure what he said or did wrong, he knows Alfred won’t burn Dick’s toast or skewer his pancakes and that makes Dick feel good about himself. 

Right now, Dick just wants a coffee; maybe he will drop Damian to school today and later, catch up with Tim. It has been a while since Tim joined Dick for a flight across Gotham and having his first Robin with him always brought back very fond memories. 

He is lost in thought, when he sees Tim tiptoe past the kitchen. 

“Hey Tim”, he calls, “are you leaving already?”

Tim looks spooked; it occurs to Dick that he probably didn’t expect to see someone downstairs so early/late. “Leaving without a goodbye, little brother?” asks Dick as he walks out of the kitchen with his coffee mug. The coffee is milky and sweet, just as he likes it, but yet it feels burnt in his mouth. 

“Yeah, I have to go home.”

Dick pauses in his sip. “This is your home too. Stay for breakfast, Alfred would love to have you at the table, then you can say goodbye to Alfred, before leaving.” 

“Well, this doesn’t feel like home anymore, Dick.” Dick feels something prick him behind his eyes. “And I have to contact the team.”

Dick walks into the hall, closer to the boy, “Why do you say that, Tim?” 

“It is nothing, Dick. Forget I said anything,” says Tim hastily. 

“No. Don’t be like that. Have you felt unwelcome, Tim?”

Tim just stands there. Dick watches Tim’s face closely. He is growing up. His cheekbones are high and sharp and he has lost any plumpness that had stayed around from his early Robin days. “It was good to be out on the rooftops with you. Reminded me of old days. We should do this more often, don’t you think?”

“Whose fault is that?” Tim shoots back. 

“Not mine, Tim. You walked away, remember.” 

“Because you didn’t trust me!” 

“This is not like you, Tim.” 

“Why? Does only the demon spawn get to yell in this house?”

“Come, Tim. Don’t let Dami get to you.”

“Get to me? Dick, you don’t know the half of it!”

“And why is that? Huh Tim? You would rather engage in a game of one-upmanship with a 12 year old when you should have been talking to me!”

“I did! I told you again and again that Bruce was alive!”

“No Tim! You suspected. You had no proof. I could not take a decision based on your instinct. You know this, Tim. You claim to be analytical. Logical. You cannot present your argument couched in grief and longing.”

“Come off it, Dick. You had a shiny new kid to partner up with. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Bruce took away Robin and Jason from you, I chose Bruce, but you saw your chance with Damian. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You chose Bruce, Tim, but only after I gave you Robin, after I trained you, kiddo. Don’t you forget that.”

“We were close, Dick, what changed? Why did you take away Robin from me?”

There’s a sharpness in Tim’s eyes that Dick had noticed before; but he places it now. Tim is angry. And Dick finds his own rage boil over. “Are we still on that?”

“Dick, Robin was my life! All I wanted to be was Robin. You took that away from me and gave it to a boy who doesn’t deserve it!” And just like that Tim has poured ice water on Dick’s rage.

“How do you reckon you get to decide that?”

“What?”

“Who gave you the right, Tim? To decide who deserves Robin? Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?” asks Dick coolly.

“We were partners, Dick. You took Robin from me. You stood and watched as my whole life fell apart.” 

“Oh Tim”, Dick sighs. He finds himself inexplicably disappointed. “You never understood Robin then, kiddo. Robin is not something you get to own.” 

“I earned it, Dick. You said so yourself. I saved Batman.”

“You really don’t see it, do you, Tim?” Dick is so tired. “Jason, you, Steph, Dami, you all can wear the Robin colours. But I am still Robin. So what if the person who called me Robin has been dead for years?” Dick sits down on the couch, puts the mug down on the side table nearby.

“I’m Robin, Tim. I may call myself Nightwing or Batman or Agent 37, but I will always be Robin. That’s my name. When I fashioned Robin into a hero, Robin saved me. I gave it to you because I knew Robin could save you. Last year, I knew Robin was what Damian needed if I had a chance to save him. Tim, you had outgrown Robin a while back. You didn’t need Robin. But you failed to see that.” 

“You thought I was mad. For thinking Bruce was alive.”

"No. I thought you were being incredibly brave. But I could not coddle you, Tim. I wish I could have held your fucking hand through your crisis, but I had to stop a disappointed ninja assassin from going back to Talia and Ra’s and telling them all about us. I had to stop Jason from putting on the cowl and play _“I’m daddy”!_ I had to take care of Bruce’s affairs; I had to remember every last one of Bruce’s lessons on business, just so I didn’t sink his whole fortune before his first death anniversary rolled around.”

“You thought I was losing my mind. I could have done with you in my corner, Dick.”

Dick sighs as he gets up from the couch. He walks to Tim, puts a hand on his shoulder. Tim shakes him off. 

“I wanted you as my partner, Tim, an equal partner. Bruce was gone. Jason was lost for the moment. Alfred was trying his best, as usual. I had to take care of WE, Justice League, Gotham _and_ Robin. I was drowning! You were my last straw and you kicked me on my face and left me.”

“You didn’t want me! The moment Damian walked in, you saw a newer model and you _replaced_ me.”

“Careful, Tim.” Dick’s voice has that growled edge now. “You have no idea of what being replaced actually looks like!” 

“You told Alfred!” 

“Because I care about you, dammit! All those years I fought crime with you; in Gotham; in Bludhaven; with the Titans; with _you_ as my Robin. All those years I was always there for you, I _made_ time for you, Tim. I was your big brother and you were my responsibility. But the one time, Tim, the one freaking time I asked you to be my partner, you walked away!”

“I missed my father. I missed him. I didn’t want to lose my father for the second time, Dick, do you understand?” 

“Do I understand? You didn’t want to lose a father for the second time? Tim, you are so fucking lucky, you don’t even realize it. I lost my father when I was 8. I lost him _again_ when I wasn’t even 18. I lost him _again_ when I came home after Jason died and he fucking threw me out of the manor. I can’t bloody count on my hands the number of times I have lost Bruce, Tim. All before he even hesitantly asked me to be his adopted son. And here I was, like a poor fucking fool of a bastard, who had considered him my father long ago.”

“Tim, I can’t convince you of your worth. That has to come from you, buddy. But don’t ever come to me and ask me if I understand how it feels to lose a father again and again!” 

“I was all alone,” is all Tim says, softly.

“I was here. You refused to confide in me. You refused to stand by me. Why, Tim? Was I the wrong person under the cowl?” Tim stands there with his head bowed. “Tim, every time I see Bruce, I want to thank you. I’m glad you found Bruce and brought him back. But don’t accuse me of running you out of Gotham, You did that yourself.”

He has never felt so drained before, Dick thinks. The boy who he had trained, mentored, laughed with, cared for, been there for long post-battle conversations, the boy he has always been so incredibly proud about. It has come to this. Tim is weeping now. There are tears coursing down his cheeks. Dick wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around this boy, and console him, tell him how much Dick had once craved for his company, how much Dick had once prayed for his partnership.

“Little brother…” 

“Don’t call me that! Wouldn’t that be Damian now?”

“Are you actively looking to hurt me, Tim? What are you mad about, huh? Because guess what! I never failed you, Tim. I didn’t fail Jason. That’s on Bruce. But I was not going to fail Damian! Don’t ever talk about Damian’s biology or your privilege as Bruce’s adopted son.” Tim looks up and there is a curl to his mouth and Dick knows Tim is ready to fling venom. But there is no one better than Dick at flinging venom; Dick keeps his hurts wrapped inside his heart, but there are those rare moments when even Dick’s heart gives up hoarding.

“What do you see when you look at me, Tim?” and Dick can see Tim is arrested with that. Dick knows how Tim thinks. And Tim’s curiosity can’t help but look for an answer. But Dick _taught_ him once. Dick would have once burned the world before he let anything happen to Tim; but now he allows himself to give voice to his hurts. Dick allows the hoarded venom of years to slip past his heart’s guardians and flow into his veins and relishes its passage as it reaches his tongue. Then he lets rip.

“Do you still see the circus kid who put on a show for you? Do you still see the circus kid who screamed himself hoarse when his parents fell? Do you still see Bruce Wayne’s charity case? What is it that you see, Tim? Do you see the boy who wanted a _family_ more than anything? Or do you see the boy who Bruce humiliates again and again and yet I come running to Gotham when any of you call? Is that it, Tim? Is that what you all see when you look at me? A poor fool, who plays house with his rich family!”

Tim is shaking his head, hard, sniffling now, wiping his sleeve across his nose. “Guess what, Tim. You are not wrong. None of you are wrong. I _am_ a fool who pretends this is his family. But I built this family, Tim. I gave Jason the Robin suit. I let you wear the Robin name. I had all the fucking right in the world to give it to Damian if it would keep him in _our_ family. _You_ , you had no right to give it to Steph though. Robin is _not_ yours, Tim. And it is _not_ Bruce’s. It is mine. To gift to _any_ child whom it can save.”

Dick has had enough. His heart is bleeding and he can’t blame anyone because he stabbed himself in his own fucking heart. Maybe this is why Garth keeps asking “why do you hate yourself so much Rob?” and Roy’s clandestine eyes follow him sometimes through the Titans Tower and he calls him in the dead of early dawn and says, “talk to me Rob” and Wally catches him in the Watchtower kitchen sometimes and just hugs him like an octopus. Dick wants the Titans’ embrace now. He desperately wishes for Garth’s powerful arms around him; holding him close and warm as if Garth’s fierce love would be enough to keep the world’s hurts at bay. Just thinking of that makes longing curl in his belly. He desperately wants to hear Garth’s soothing voice. But he will have to wait. All good things come to those who wait, he tells himself.

“Dick…You have saved me so many times. I just wanted you to save me one more time.”

Dick is done. He had tried to keep floating but apparently, he had failed once again. He can already imagine the Titans’ piercing eyes judging him for his self-flagellation.

“Yeah Tim… Sorry, I was busy grieving dying drowning”

“Dick,” Tim lunges to hold Dick’s arm as he is about to walk past. Dick stills. “Timmy, this is your home. This is your family. Family should help you, but sometimes, you are expected to help your family too, kid.” 

Dick gently untangles his arm from Tim’s grip. “Don’t worry, Timmy. I don’t expect you to help me. I never did, except when I did, I guess.”

Tim inhales a long breath. “I didn’t think of you or Alfred or Batman, Dick.”

Dick chuckles darkly, “Yeah, I gathered, Timmy.” “You know,” Dick turns to look Tim in his eyes, “I always liked your brand of honesty. It was refreshing, after Bruce’s secrets and Jason’s fake bravado. So thank you for, at least, being honest.”

“Dick, we were both hurting, let me set this right.”

“Not on my account, Tim.”

Tim sighs, looks at him a bit, and says “I….I feel bad, Dick.”

“You will live, Timmy.” Dick walks back to the table, picks up his now cold coffee and shuffles into the kitchen. He can hear the front door open and close behind him.

Only to startle at 2 pairs of eyes staring at him. But it is Alfred he looks at as he asks, “I think my heart has gone numb, Alf. I can’t feel it.” Alfred gently pries the coffee mug from his hands, and places a hot steaming mug of ginger tea instead. “This will make it right as rain, Master Dick.” Dick huffs, “Right as rain, oh how bleddy English of you, Alfred.”

“I do try, Master Dick.” 

Dick turns back to Damian, and sits opposite him at the breakfast table. “Grayson….” Damian starts and though Dick waits, Damian doesn’t say anything. Dick is in no mood for chatter either, so he inhales his tea. Sure enough, Damian begins again, “Richard, why was I never informed about Robin being your mother’s name for you?”

“It doesn’t matter, Little D.”

“I presume Todd wasn’t aware of it either?”

“Unless Bruce told him, no.”

“Father didn’t tell me, Richard.”

“I should have told you, for the same reasons I should have told Jay and Timmy. I made you all Robin.” 

“Did you make me Robin because you thought I would sell out Father to Mother and Grandfather?”

Dick has never been one to not be straight-forward with his brothers; especially this one. “One of many reasons, Dami, yes.” 

“Will Drake come home?” 

“He’ll get over it. He is part of this family. You don’t abandon family just because your family didn’t give you what you want. He’ll come, Dami.”

“I don’t care, Grayson!”

“Sure.” Dick soothes.

“And you?”

“However it happened, this is my family, Dami and it is my duty to protect this family, to help it, to save it.”

“Who will save you, Grayson?”

Dick chuckles lightly this time, and points behind Damian, “Alfred”.


End file.
